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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30007026">Baking With Steve</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaurenWritesFics/pseuds/LaurenWritesFics'>LaurenWritesFics</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Gen, One Shot, Short &amp; Sweet, Short One Shot, Sweet</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 20:40:42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>331</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30007026</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaurenWritesFics/pseuds/LaurenWritesFics</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Feeling inspired, Steve decides to bake cookies with his favorite roommate. (Gender neutral reader)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Steve Rogers/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>21</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Baking With Steve</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>DISCLAIMER: Any reference to existing copyrighted/trademarked companies/characters is done so without intent of ownership. The sole ownership of Steve Rogers/Captain America remains with Marvel.</p><p>This story must not be posted, reproduced or altered in any way without the express permission of the author.</p><hr/>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Waking up early wasn’t exactly your specialty, but on this particular day, you were more than happy to be an early riser. With Easter fast approaching, today you were going to bake a test batch of cookies. As the sherbet dawn grew brighter, you stretched and turned towards the door. </p><p>“Steve?” You yawned. </p><p>You walked to the kitchen, head heavy, eyes foggy from a deep slumber.</p><p>“Good morning!” Steve’s voice and eyes were bright as he greeted you, leaning on the kitchen island with one hand, his other resting on his hip.</p><p>“I’m getting coffee.”</p><p>Steve leaned down to plant a kiss on the top of your head as you passed him.</p><p>The coffee machine gurgled, the sound of Billie Holiday’s ‘All Of Me’ murmuring beneath it.</p><p>“Just to warn you, everything I know, I learned from binge-watching The Great British Bake Off. I’m more of an armchair baker.”</p><p>Steve chuckled. “We’ll make it work.”</p><p>“I had no idea you’d be this enthusiastic about baking. You’re full of surprises, Rogers.”</p><p>“When you’ve lived through wartime rationing, improved recipes are a blessing.”</p><p>“That’s fair.” A half-smile danced across your lips, fading into the tiniest gawp as you watched Steve rolling and kneading the dough, sleeves rolled up, his slick brylcreemed hair falling a little out of place. The hot splash of coffee overflowing onto your arm snapped you out of your trance. “You’re going pretty fast over there, are you sure you need me in the kitchen?”</p><p>“Of course. Come here,” he waved you over, sliding a bowl of chocolate chips across the kitchen island “you can add the flair.”</p><p>“I’m honored!” You gave him a little wink and tucked your hair behind your ears as you leaned over the bowl. “I think we should mix the chocolate chips into the cookie dough.”</p><p>Steve’s brow furrowed. “Isn’t it too late for that?”</p><p>Placing one hand on your hip, the other on the kitchen counter, mimicking Steve, you deadpanned “We’ll make it work.”</p>
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